


In Betrayal I Trust

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Danger, Dreams and Nightmares, Flashbacks, Life-Threatening Situations, Loss of Trust, Mild Spoilers, Multi, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Spies & Secret Agents, Suspicions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While captured and tortured by a rogue Decepticon, Ratchet was informed that a human spy has infiltrated the lives of Jack, Miko, and Raf. He and Optimus don't have much time to find out the identity of this spy, as unexpected life threats are becoming more and more frequent. The kids' guardians are summoned back from Cybertron to protect them, but they can never tell where or when the next danger will arise.</p><p>Sequel to <em>A Ghost of Who I Was<em></em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Ghost of Who I Was](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751567) by [Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor). 



> Heads up, this story will make ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE unless you read A Ghost of Who I Was, [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1751567/chapters/3742913)
> 
> To see the cover of A Ghost of Who I Was, go [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1723568)
> 
> To see the cover of this story, In Betrayal I Trust, go [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1867854)
> 
> And if you comment/critique/give me ideas of where to go with this, I will love you forever! :D

_“I’m not going to let you run, at least not yet...methods of torture from my mentor..._

_I spy on you and your human allies...never expect...betray their own race..._

_Autohuman...bleed...survived the war...entertainment..._

_Run or die_. _”_

Ratchet found himself on the floor, body aching from his fall. He cried out, not recognizing his surroundings and fearing this was some new torture Vehicon #115 had devised—

Powerful arms seized Ratchet's shoulders from behind, yanking him into the air and whirling him around. He screamed in anguish and terror, thrashing against them and kicking the air until wide, blindingly bright optics rose mere inches from his own. Frightened by their sudden appearance, Ratchet howled again, prompting an alarmed mech to speak:

“Ratchet! Wake up!” There was no mistaking that voice.

“Oh, Optimus!” Ratchet sobbed, clinging to the familiar shoulders as lubricant tears poured down his face and wet the Prime's chest-plate.

Ratchet's strength left him abruptly and he sagged weakly toward the floor, Optimus’ grip the only thing keeping him up. Tightening his hold protectively, Optimus sank onto the edge of Ratchet’s berth and pulled the medic up beside him.

When Ratchet's tears stilled, he slumped against Optimus' shoulder, almost starting to fall into recharge. The larger mech shifted to lay Ratchet down, but the thought of separation brought Ratchet's panic roaring back.

“No, don’t!” he begged, struggling back up, desperately seeking refuge. “I—He’s still—”

“The Vehicon is gone, old friend,” Optimus soothed, rubbing his faintly shaking shoulders. “You are safe.”

Ratchet shook his head slowly, admitting, “I won’t feel safe until these dreams stop.”

“It will obviously take some time,” Optimus reminded him. “You were taken when you were most vulnerable. There is sure to be some post-traumatic stress.”

“Not just that,” Ratchet sighed, distressed. “Even if _I’m_ safe, I fear the humans aren’t.”

Optimus’s brows knit, revealing that he too was troubled, but he still tried to be reassuring. “The Vehicon’s human spy, if there truly is one, hasn’t taken any hostile action against our friends.”

Pulling out of Optimus’ hug so he could face him, Ratchet protested in dismay, “But what if it’s only a matter of time? I feel...we should bring their guardians back.”

Optimus pursed his lips. “They are engaged with Cybertron’s reconstruction.”

“Believe me, Optimus, no one wants to see Cybertron in glory more than I do,” Ratchet reminded him. “But this Vehicon, he’s become bigger than—” Ratchet clenched his optics shut abruptly.

_“Megatron is dead and Starscream and Shockwave are gone.”_

_“So are the Autobots.”_

Venting shakily, Ratchet shook his processor free of the flashback. “—bigger than taking over the human race by himself. A human he employed as a Decepticon is out there, watching our every move.”


	2. *Jack*

Jack had been visiting the base almost every day since Ratchet had been returned to his Autobot form, but today he’d been called on to work unexpectedly. It was late that evening when he drove into the bunker where Optimus and Ratchet were. On the days he worked, he often wondered how the Autobots spent their time. Brooding? Driving? Maybe if he ever got to see Arcee again, he could ask her.

The engine on his non-Cybertronian car had just recently been tuned up and now the sound was no longer loud, so his alien friends didn’t notice him. As he parked and got out, Jack called a greeting to the Cybertronians who were near the computer, Optimus standing ramrod-straight as usual and Ratchet leaning back against the wall behind him.

“Hey, Optimus. Hey, Ratchet.”

Much to Jack’s surprise, Optimus jerked around sharply, his hand tightening on Ratchet’s shoulder. The medic lifted his head at the same time and Jack thought that he saw dread on Ratchet’s face for a single moment before it vanished.

“Ah, Jack, hello,” Ratchet returned the greeting, his cheerful tone sounding slightly forced as he stood, shaking off Optimus’ hand. “How was your drive over? Anything...happen?”

“No, everything was just fine,” Jack answered, raising his eyebrows curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” Ratchet said, shrugging.

Jack studied him intently, remembering how Ratchet had asked the same thing yesterday. _You can’t really blame him_ , Jack reminded himself sternly. _Last time_ he _was a human in a car was pretty traumatic. He’s probably still a little edgy_.

“Everything was fine,” he repeated, watching Ratchet’s shoulders relax slightly at his reassurance. “So what are you up to?” Jack changed the subject.

“We were simply discussing our comrades back on Cybertron,” Optimus replied in that slow way of his.

“Oh! How are they?” Jack asked eagerly. “How’s Arcee?”

“She took over my job as team medic.” Ratchet pretended to sulk and then laughed, shaking his head. “How is she, Optimus?”

“She’s well, as are the others,” Optimus informed them. “I believe they wish to visit soon.”

Ratchet jerked around to stare at his friend. “What? They...do?”

Jack watched Optimus smile in answer and didn’t know why, but he found it somewhat strange. That wasn’t Optimus’ usual smile. Ratchet, however, beamed, ex-venting in satisfaction.

“Well, that’s...that’s...”

“Great!” Jack piped up, trying to force his feelings of suspicion out of his mind. “When can they come?”

“Tomorrow,” Optimus answered thoughtfully, surprising both listeners. “I’ll go to help them put their projects on hold.”

“Optimus...” Ratchet glanced at Jack for a moment and then launched into a series of brisk, oscillating clicks and whirrs that Jack could only assume was Cybertronian. Optimus responded in kind and though Jack couldn’t understand the words, their tones were grimmer than he might expect. Why were they speaking in Cybertronian anyway? That was kind of rude when a human was standing right there listening...

“Very well,” Optimus said in English, breaking Jack’s thoughts. “Ratchet and I will both go and bring back your guardians.”

“Well, they’re just friends now,” Jack reminded him. “There’s not much left on Earth that can harm us.”

Optimus blinked once and nodded without a very agreeable expression. “Indeed. Will you tell the others where we’ve gone?”

“You’re leaving _now_?” Jack was startled. “Um, yeah, I guess I can.”

“It would be appreciated,” Optimus thanked him briskly. “Ratchet.”

“Yes, yes,” Ratchet cut him off, turning slightly so he could activate the space bridge generator. “Jack, tell Miko not to get too excitable or she’ll hyperventilate. And tell Rafael to hide Ferris just in case.”

“In case of what?” Jack wanted to know. “He’s just a puppy, so I don’t think they’ll feel threatened by him.”

Ratchet frowned. “I thought I was one of the adults in the room.”

 _Just nod before he gets snappy_ , Jack told himself, obediently promising that he would make sure Ratchet and Raf’s dog would stay in the kennel they had bought for him.

The brilliant green tunnel of light reminded Jack of his time on Cybertron. He wondered if it looked any better than it had last time and added that to the growing list of things he was going to ask Arcee—right after he asked her if she had noticed Optimus and Ratchet’s swiftly changing behavior around each other, him, and his two other best friends.


	3. *Ratchet*

Ratchet drew in a sharp breath, halting right at the edge of the space bridge’s light. Optimus’ EM field blended with his, radiating cautious curiosity in response to his anxiety.

“I haven’t stepped on Cybertron in...ages,” Ratchet whispered. “How different will it be?”

“Different,” Optimus guaranteed, smiling slightly as he added, “Better.”

Steeling himself, Ratchet stepped forward onto Cybertronian ground, feeling a cool mixture of elation and emotion tighten his throat cables.

Much of the ashen debris had been cleared away and although most of the buildings were still in crumbling heaps, they were no longer smoking in energon-fueled fires. The remnant bodies had been removed also, likely sorted somewhere to later be buried properly.

“Oh, Optimus, you’ve made so much progress!” Ratchet gasped, turning to gape at his friend in disbelief and delight. “It’s...almost beautiful.”

Optimus smiled again, broader than before. “I’m glad it pleases you.”

“It does more than that. I can see it,” Ratchet persisted, unexpectedly finding himself with blurring vision. “I _see_ the planet that was my home.” Tsking softly, he wiped at his faceplates in embarrassment. Optimus made no comment about his tears and Ratchet would never be sure, but he almost thought his Prime was fighting off the same.

“Let’s see the others,” the medic suggested eagerly. “We need to get back to Earth as soon as possible—” He paused, abruptly remembering why Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead were being summoned back.

“They will be glad to be reunited with the children,” Optimus agreed lightly. “Come. They’ll surely have been alerted that a space bridge was activated, so we can meet them at the halfway point.” So saying, Optimus transformed and rolled out. Ratchet followed suit, privately wondering how the Prime was going to explain their reasons for returning to the humans— _if_ he was going to explain at all.

How ironic that the three Autobots Ratchet and Optimus wanted were the ones who were sent to investigate the space bridge activation.

“Optimus, you’re back!” Bulkhead cried excitedly. “Is Wheeljack back with you?”

Ratchet whooped his sirens in an alt. mode greeting before getting back on his feet. “No one _that_ exciting,” he laughed.

Bulkhead, Arcee, and Bumblebee all transformed also, running forward to welcome him enthusiastically.

“Ultra Magnus told us you’d been captured by a Decepticon, Ratchet,” Arcee mentioned, sobering a bit after the first greetings had been said.

Bulkhead nodded in concurrence. “You okay, Ratch? Weld yourself back together?”

Ratchet’s smile faltered as memory assaulted him.

_“Being a medic, you no doubt use this for repair. But when used on the softer metal on a Cybertronian, it can leave quite a mark. You don’t exactly have any metal on you, but flesh will do nicely. I’ll have to be careful, though—don’t want to roast you away.”_

Optimus materialized on his right side, gently but unrelentingly pulling at his right hand until it came away from his formerly-maimed left arm and back to his side. Ratchet blinked back into reality, realizing fleetingly that he’d been using that stress habit again.

“Yes, I’m alright,” he forced out, quickly changing the subject. “We’re here to help you three get ready.”

“Ready for what?” Bumblebee asked, startling them all. They were still getting used to the fact that his voice box had been restored.

“The children have been requesting a visit for some time now—” Optimus began, cut off by the gleeful reactions that started as soon as he’d said ‘the children’.

“We’re going to see them?!” Bulkhead laughed, pounding Arcee and Bumblebee on the backs, Arcee with lesser force lest she fly into Ratchet’s face.

“I’ll actually be able to talk to Jack and Miko!” Bumblebee realized breathlessly.

“Let’s hurry so we can tell Smokescreen and Ultra Magnus and get out of here!” Arcee urged, whirling and leaping into the air, flipping and landing on her wheels.

Ratchet watched the scenery speed by and wished minutely that he could have some time to linger on his home planet. There might be time for that later, he hoped, after his initial nervousness about the children’s safety had been worn down by time. Surely it would! Surely it was silly! Surely there was no reason for the sickening dread he was forcing into the thinnest layer of his EM field so the others wouldn’t notice it. No reason at all...

Smokescreen was somewhat sulky when he heard that the others were going to Earth and he had to remain behind for construction, but he tried to brighten his own mood by warning, “Don’t feel left out when _I_ find some famously ancient relic that you all care about and you’re not here to see!”

Ultra Magnus, meanwhile, looked Ratchet over critically. “You’re well, doctor? No lasting damage?”

“I’m fine,” Ratchet said, exasperated—mostly with himself and the way he flinched at the question despite the fact that he’d already been asked it not long before.

Optimus nodded his agreement. “He’s swiftly recovering.” Noticing Ratchet’s discomfort, Optimus said, “I want to thank you, commander, for taking charge of construction in my absence.”

“It’s my duty, sir,” Ultra Magnus said respectfully. Optimus nodded again and as Magnus turned away Ratchet brushed his EM field against Optimus’ in gratitude. He was recovering, just as the Prime said. It was just going to take time, he assured himself. Time to relax. As the others began considering what they ought to bring with them, if anything, Ratchet tried to ignore the thought nagging at the back of his processor: when would he get the time to recover with a subversive looking over his shoulder?


	4. *Raf*

Raf couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When Jack told him Optimus and Ratchet had gone back to Cybertron, he had at first believed there was some kind of emergency. The real reason had shocked him into silence, while Miko was the opposite.

“Bulk’s coming back! Jackie, Jackie, where’s Jackie?!”

Wheeljack emerged from the lab at the sound of his name. “What’s up, little Wrecker?”

“Bulk’s coming back!” Miko squealed again, jumping up and down.

Her glee finally caught up with Raf and made him almost start jumping up and down too. “And Bee!” He gasped in surprise when Miko turned and picked him up, spinning around the room and singing her joy in an off-key voice.

Wheeljack and Jack laughed at their antics, too mature to play along but obviously just as excited as they were.

“Miko, put me down!” Raf cried. “I have to get ready!”

Miko plopped him down and he pinwheeled his arms, trying to regain his balance. “What do you need to do?” she asked in surprise. “That’s really how those family reunions work—just sit around and then say hi to everybody when they come. At least, that’s how my family does it.”

“Well, that’s not how mine does,” Raf replied, rushing over to a nearby table and grabbing Jack’s keys. “Jack, can you drive me home please? I have to change! Miko, call me if you think they’re coming soon, okay?”

Miko shrugged half-mindedly in agreement and Raf pulled Jack over to his car, urging him to hurry.

“So how does your family get ready for a reunion?” Jack asked on the drive over.

“Well, we get into our nice clothes,” Raf began. “And make sure that there aren’t any distractions around. Speaking of that, where’s Ferris? He wasn’t playing in Bee’s old room as usual.”

“Oh, yeah, Ratchet made a weird request,” Jack recalled, his brows knitting in confusion. “He wanted Ferris locked up.”

Raf tilted his head. “Why?”

“I don’t know. He said ‘just in case’ and when I asked him what it meant he got all snippy.” Jack glanced at Raf as he stopped at a red light. “Do you notice that he and Optimus are acting kinda strange?”

Raf considered. “No, I haven’t seen much of them lately.”

“Exactly,” Jack insisted. “They’ve been locked up in the lab together.”

Raf shrugged. “They’re best friends, so they have private talks. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He soon forgot about Jack’s question as he leapt out onto his own driveway and ran smack-dab into his mother.

“Rafael, I told you to take out this trash!” Mrs. Esquivel scolded her son, gesturing in irritation to the trash strewn across the lawn.

“I did!” Raf protested in dismay. He glanced toward the trash can and noticed it was on its side. “The bin just fell over.” Quickly he launched into action, scooping up the fallen debris and sticking it back where it belonged before his mother could even ask. He couldn’t afford to be late!

The return to the base felt far longer than the drive home, Raf thought, drumming his fingers on the inside of the car door. When they finally did arrive, Raf leapt out, straightening his collar shirt, and ran toward the voices he heard from the other room.

“Raf!” that oddly familiar yet unfamiliar voice shouted, making Raf grin ecstatically and dive agilely into the yellow and black hands held out for him.

“I’ve been learning how to dive like that at swim practice,” he said proudly as Bee lifted him up so they were eye-to-optic. “It’s so great to see you, Bee!”

“You too, Raf! Wow, you’ve grown _so_ _much_...Hey, let’s...let’s drive!” Bee suggested excitedly. “Why don’t we go to the pool? I want to watch you do more dives!”

Raf beamed with pride. “That sounds cool!” It only took those three words and Bee was transforming.

“Hey,” Ratchet called before they could take off, “keep an eye out for anyone weird, alright?”

“What for?” Bee wanted to know.

“You haven’t been here to see the news, but there are a lot of creepers around!” Ratchet barked. “Just do it!”

“Okay, okay, we will,” Bee promised hastily.

“What have you been doing on Cybertron?” Raf asked as they roared out of the base toward his house so he could get his swim clothes.

“Mostly construction,” Bumblebee replied, laughing through his revving engine. “Nothing as fun as our times together.”

Raf rubbed the seat in wordless agreement, remembering suddenly how much he had missed this. _This_ was where he belonged. Bolting into his house almost before Bee parked, Raf changed into his swim clothes and told his mom where he was going before rushing back out.

One could tell Bee was overexcited by how quickly they reached their destination. “Just like old times,” Bee said as Raf got out. “I’ll go to my same spot in between those two trees over there where you can’t see me but I can see you. Just know I’ll be watching.”

Raf nodded and ran to the gate, holding out his member card to the person there so it could be punched. Then, carefully following the rules of the pool, he walked calmly to the diving board, pleased that it was free at the moment.

His heartbeat gained in rhythm as he made his way to the high board. He’d only done this a couple of times near the end of his diving class and sometimes it still scared him, not to mention the fact that he wanted it to be right for Bee. He glanced at the two thick trees where he knew his friend was watching and then waved at the lifeguard, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. Raf took a deep breath and hardly a second later released it in a cry of alarm as the board and platform collapsed beneath him.


	5. *Bumblebee*

Bumblebee watched in horror as the diving board crumbled, sending Raf tumbling into the pool first and then the entire platform along with him. The watchwoman on duty lunged forward, diving into the water just as Raf had been planning to. When she emerged from the water full of springs and metal pieces, she put Raf on the deck and reached for her cellphone.

No way was Bee going to let him be taken away, he decided, transforming quickly and screeching up to the front gate. “Let me take him!” he hollered, catching the lifeguard’s attention. “I’m his friend!”

“Bee—” Raf was alert enough to make the lifeguard realize that the supposed driver of the car was telling the truth. Therefore she wrapped Raf up in a towel and stuck him in the backseat. Bee tore off as soon as the seatbelt clicked, shutting the door on his own.

“Raf, Raf, are you okay?! Are you hurt?!” he demanded fearfully.

“My head hurts,” Raf murmured, huddling further into his towel. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital,” Bumblebee answered as he turned the corner, “where Jack’s mother works.”

“Okay, that sounds good...”

Bee screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. “I...I can’t take you up there myself,” he said helplessly.

“I can walk,” Raf told him.

“No, what if you collapse or something?!” Bee fretted. “Raf—”

“I’ll be okay,” Raf said, some strength returning to his voice as he pushed open the door and stepped out, plodding toward the hospital’s front doors. Bee watched anxiously as Raf stopped in front of them, almost as though he didn’t know why he was going in there. Then he turned back and made a phone motion next to his ear. Knowing what he wanted, Bee tuned into June Darby’s cellphone.

“Mrs. Darby, this is Bumblebee,” he said as soon as the nurse answered.

“Bumblebee? How are you getting reception all the way from—?”

“I’m outside your hospital with Raf. He needs help,” Bee cut in urgently. The phone went dead and Bee knew that meant June was on her way. She appeared not long afterward with another doctor.

“Andrew, help me with him,” June was saying to the doctor, who scooped up Raf and took him inside. June cast a glance toward the Autobot that was probably supposed to be reassuring and then followed.

Reluctantly accepting that there was nothing else he could do, Bumblebee cut a sharp U-turn and headed back to the Autobot bunker.

When he got there, Bumblebee’s throat cables tightened when he saw the others were still completely happy. Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Miko were taking pictures together, undoubtedly for another one of Miko’s photo albums. Jack and Arcee were talking in a corner, probably catching up on the months of being apart. Optimus and Ratchet were in a further corner conversing just as heatedly. Bee didn’t understand why they wore such intent, troubled expressions, but right now he didn’t care.

Miko looked up when Bumblebee drove in. “Whoops, hang on,” she told Bulkhead and Wheeljack, who relaxed from their camera-posed positions. “Candid camera, Bee!” she called, flashing her phone camera.

Bee stood up from alt. mode and hung his head. “Delete that picture, Miko.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Arcee asked as she noticed him, immediately before Jack questioned, “Where’s Raf?”

Bumblebee trembled wordlessly for a moment before lunging and kicking the wall with a thunderous bang. “It’s all my fault!” he shouted. “Now that I’m back, he’s in danger _again_!”

“What happened?!” everyone demanded at once.

“The board at the pool,” Bumblebee moaned, turning and sinking down with his back to the wall. “It collapsed while he was on it.”

“That’s only happened, like, once before!” Miko protested. “Last time they were doing maintenance, they forgot to put out the sign. Do you think that happened again?”

“Is Raf okay?” Jack asked worriedly. As if on cue, his cellphone rang. He answered and immediately went ramrod-straight. “Mom, how is he?” He listened for a while, occasionally nodding, and then released a breath. “Okay, thanks. Yes, I’ll tell them. Bye.” After hanging up, he announced, “Mild concussion, but otherwise he’s fine. My mom’s coming to drop him back off here.”

Bee stood up, running over to Ratchet and pleading, “When he gets here, can you take a look at him just in case? To know for _sure_ that he’s okay?”

Ratchet didn’t answer right away, staring at the wall with an expression that held...nothing. No concern, no deliberation, just a vague sort of reverie. Bee clutched his arm insistently, repeating his request, and Ratchet shook his head. “I don’t know very much about human physiology. If Mrs. Darby has cleared him, I think he’s feeling better, Bumblebee.”

Bee sighed. He knew Ratchet was probably right, but an inspection from Ratchet still would have made _him_ feel better.


	6. *Jack*

“Has your head stopped hurting?” Jack asked, sitting next to Raf on the couch.

“Mostly,” the other boy replied, smiling faintly.

“It’s my fault,” Bumblebee sighed mournfully. “I was the one who suggested the pool. I think I’m jinxed.”

“No, it was a maintenance issue. It’s not your fault; don’t think like that,” Raf scolded, frowning at his guardian. “It’s like what Bofur says in The Hobbit: ‘That could’ve been worse’. It was only one of the springs that bumped my head. Nothing to worry about!”

“When he’s using movie quotes, you know he’s alright,” Miko soothed Bee, flopping over the back of the couch and squeezing Raf’s shoulder.

“I still wish Ratchet would take a look at you,” Bee mumbled, casting a glance toward the lab where the medic was working.

“He’s busy,” Raf argued. “There’s no reason to interrupt him.”

Arcee approached at that moment, questioning, “Jack, you want to go for a ride?”

Jack’s eyes lit up, but then he bit his lip, glancing hesitantly at Raf. Raf waved him off.

“I’m fine, Jack, go on.”

Reassured, Jack dashed down the stairs toward his friend, realizing at the last minute: “Aw, I don’t have my helm—” Before he could finish his sentence, Arcee held out his helmet. Jack took it in surprise. “Where...?”

“While you were with Raf, I stopped by your garage and got it,” Arcee explained, transforming. “Hop on,” she urged. Jack grinned ecstatically. How he loved hearing her say that!  

They were soon on their way and Jack remembered the question he’d put in the back of his mind to ask her. “Hey, Arcee,” he called above the wind, “do you think Optimus and Ratchet have been acting weird?”

“Ratchet was held hostage for a while,” Arcee reminded him. “Optimus...well, you know how he responds to Decepticons.”

“Not only that,” Jack recalled, “but Ratchet was human.”

Arcee’s tires squealed a bit as she recovered her balance. “Wait, what?!”

“They didn’t tell you?” Jack was astonished. “Ratchet got turned into a human last week!” He proceeded to tell her about Ratchet’s accident, capture, rescue, and restoration.

“They didn’t tell me any of that,” Arcee gasped. “That’s...that’s insane! They’re sure to be a _little_ shell-shocked from that!”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s it.”

“Never mind that,” Arcee shrugged it off. “Let’s just enjoy this, okay?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jack assured her, tightening his grip on the handlebars as Arcee released a burst of speed.

Eventually, as dusk colored the sky an almost-Vehicon purple, they ended up back at Jack’s garage. Jack got off Arcee so they could both stretch. Arcee yipped, carefully avoiding the low beam she always caught her head on. The friends paused, considering how familiar this scene was.

“I’ve missed you,” Jack said after a few minutes of silence. Pulling off his helmet and setting it aside, he asked, “Are you going to stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, and I’ll take you to work in the morning,” Arcee promised. “Just like I used to.”

The next day was a relatively normal one, except Arcee remained parked outside Knock Out Burgers. Jack would occasionally run to the window when there was a rare lull in business and check on her. She always blinked her lights, a sign that she was just fine, and Jack would grin in response. Some of his coworkers joked about a girlfriend he was hiding behind that motorcycle near the bushes, but Jack took it in stride, keeping his lips tightly sealed so he wouldn’t burst out laughing at their ignorance.

That evening, Jack cooked up a burger for himself as he did every night and went to lock up. “Arcee, I forgot to get out the meat for tomorrow,” he apologized. “It has to thaw overnight.”

“I can—” Arcee paused when she heard a beep from her comlink. After listening a few moments, she signed off and disagreed, “I guess I _can’t_ wait. Your mom wants me to get her from the hospital—her car broke down. I’ll drop her off at home and then come back for you, alright?”

“Sure,” Jack agreed. “And tell her she can use my car tomorrow while hers is getting repaired.”

Arcee agreed she would and sped off. Jack waited until she was out of sight to go back into the building. Setting his still-untouched food and cellphone on the counter, Jack made his way to the back of the kitchen, where the large freezer was located. Once inside, he dragged some of the meat off the shelves and hurried back to the door. He was tired and hungry and couldn’t wait to be home. Struggling to keep ahold of the meat, Jack fumbled for the handle on the freezer door with little success.

Taking a deep breath to quell his exasperation, Jack muttered to himself, “Just make two trips, blockhead.” Setting some of the frozen food aside, Jack had a much more manageable load as he turned the handle.

The door didn’t budge. Surprised, Jack rattled the handle a bit, pushing with more force. No reaction whatsoever. Putting his armful of meat with the rest, Jack slammed his shoulder against the door and managed to give himself nothing but a bruise.

“Scrap,” he said under his breath, Arcee rubbing off on him again already. Sighing, he reached for his cellphone so he could call someone. Who, he didn’t know yet, but—

His cellphone wasn’t in his pocket. Desperately Jack looked over to the counter next to his bag of food.

The freezer naturally grew colder at night. When Arcee returned and didn’t see him, she would assume he had just walked home by himself. He had no way to tell her otherwise, and the first shift didn’t start until six o’clock tomorrow...

“ _Scrap_!”


	7. *Arcee*

“And then his manager comes to drop in the employees’ payroll. He sees the meat hasn’t been put out, goes to the freezer, and finds Jack _half-frozen_ inside!” Arcee spat.

“That’s the second accident,” Bee gasped. “Maybe you’re jinxed too, Arcee!”

Bulkhead opened his mouth, no doubt to scold Bee for bringing that up again (in lieu of Raf and Miko, who were at school), but Arcee beat him to it. “I don’t believe in that stuff, Bee!” she snapped. “You shouldn’t be making light of it!”

“Why weren’t you with him?” Wheeljack asked skeptically. “If it were _my_ friend, I would’ve stuck with him and made sure nothing happened!”

“His mom’s car broke down at the hospital; I was taking her home!” Arcee growled. “And Jack isn’t just my friend, he’s my partner!”

Wheeljack raised an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

Squaring her shoulders, Arcee took a breath to start shouting, but Bulkhead seemed to recognize the storm that was coming and interjected, “So...how is Jack now?”

“When Mrs. Darby found out, she made me take him to a friend of hers at the hospital. He’s going to stay there for observation,” Arcee sighed, forcing away her anger at Wheeljack’s nonchalance. “I’m really worried for him.”

“We all are,” Bulkhead assured her, trying to offer her comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone. Arcee smiled wanly, but it immediately faded when Bumblebee muttered something, almost to himself.

“What’d you say, Bee?” she asked, startling the scout.

“Oh, nothing,” Bumblebee replied, looking slightly...how did Jack always put it? ‘Like a deer in the headlights’?

Trying to shrug it off, Arcee turned away, still keeping one audial toward her yellow-and-black comrade. She tried to look interested in Optimus’s quiet stroll toward the lab. Just as she’d suspected, as soon as he thought the coast was clear, Bumblebee leaned toward Bulkhead and spoke in a very low voice.

“Am I the only one who thinks that Optimus isn’t participating in this conversation? There he goes, sneaking off to the lab.”

It wasn’t exactly what Arcee had expected him to say. She had been thinking up a defense in case they accused her of leaving Jack to freeze, but now that Bee mentioned it...

“‘Sneaking’?” Bulkhead echoed incredulously. “Optimus doesn’t _sneak_. I don’t know if he even _can_ sneak!”

“You know what I mean,” Bee argued, using normal volume now that the doors to the lab were closing. “He’s been acting kind of strange ever since we came.”

Arcee’s thoughts were drawn back to the day before. Jack had mentioned Optimus’ odd behavior to her while they were riding. Now that the other Autobots were noticing, Arcee suspected it might not just be due to the chaotic happenings of the previous week.

She needed someone to talk it over with, someone who would understand how confused she was. A former partner. “I’m going for a drive,” she announced, transforming quickly and rolling out of the base before anyone could dispute her decision.

The drive seemed to take forever. Arcee disliked the fact that they had needed to relocate to a military bunker, as it made Cliffjumper’s ledge all the further, but eventually she did find herself at the peak, standing in front of her dear friend’s memorial.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly. “Guess who? I know it’s been a while. I’ve been on Cybertron, doing what I can to clean it up. Primus knows what you’ve been doing. Have you been bored?” She listened intently to the silence and prayed fleetingly that the spark of her friend hadn’t indeed gotten bored and left this place. The warmth started to seep back abruptly, reassuring her that Cliffjumper had noticed she was here. Smiling a little, she told him everything that had happened on Cybertron and now what was happening here on earth.

“It isn’t right,” she growled, pacing back and forth. “If you were here, you’d probably help me figure out who did this to Jack and make them pay, wouldn’t you? I don’t have anyone like that anymore.”

“Now that’s just hurtful,” a voice behind her said, making her gasp and whirl around with blasters poised.

“Wheeljack!” she hissed when she recognized the intruder.

“The one and only,” was the dry response. Wheeljack leaned slightly to the right, looking over her shoulder at the mound of stones. “So this is where he hangs out, eh?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Arcee demanded, quickly bringing her hands back down to her sides when she realized they were still aimed to fire.

“You were taking a while coming back,” Wheeljack explained. “You told me back on Cybertron that this was where you’d go when you wanted to be alone—”

“Right,” Arcee agreed caustically. “So I must want to be alone.”

Wheeljack blinked impassively. “You know, talking to yourself is a sign of becoming a sociopath.”

Arcee didn’t have any response to that—thankfully, as it probably would have been something she muttered in an undertone to herself, just proving his point.

“I was just kidding,” Wheeljack informed her after a long, uncomfortable silence. “Talking to yourself is fine.”

Pursing her lips, Arcee wished that Tailgate or Cliffjumper were here to dissolve the tenseness. If it were Jack, even better.


	8. *Optimus*

Optimus knew the other Autobots were talking about him as he walked into the lab, but he was too preoccupied with the conversation he was about to have to care much about it. Ratchet was _not_ going to take his news well.

The medic was leaning against the wall, teal optics fixed intently on the screen of his personal computer. He didn’t bring it out very often, as he had access to the main computer at any time, but when he wanted to keep his searching confidential, the smaller device stored in the lab came in handy.

A long time ago Optimus had learned that if he wanted to tell Ratchet something he wouldn’t like, he needed to talk about something he did like first. “Have you made progress in your research?” the Prime asked politely as he approached.

Ratchet glanced up briefly. “I’ve hacked the criminal database and now I’m examining any of the humans there for a modus operandi that would fit a Decepticon.”

Optimus nodded, mulling this over. “You’ve hacked the database. How did you do that?”

Looking up again, Ratchet grimaced. “Easy. All I had to do was access my profile.”

Optimus stilled as his friend turned the computer around and showed him the file for ‘Ferris Darby’, listing the crimes Ratchet had committed in his human form. Leaning in, Optimus muttered, “You hijacked...an _ambulance_?”

Ratchet glared and turned the screen’s back to him. “ **::Frell::** , Optimus, I just wanted a ride home. But really, you wouldn’t believe how many humans have evil intentions. They do such horrible things and so many people get hurt.”

“Speaking of that...” Because of the profanity Ratchet had just used, Optimus was unsure how blunt he ought to be. “There’s been...an incident.”

“What?” Ratchet’s attention had suddenly zeroed in on him, making Optimus cringe inwardly.

“Jack was imprisoned in the freezer of his work place. The cold has a similar effect on humans as Cybertronians; he’s been temporarily hospitalized.” Leaning forward, Optimus rescued the computer from Ratchet’s limp fingers before it fell to the ground.

Ratchet had no words and Optimus enjoyed it while it lasted. Then the medic twitched slightly, signaling that his processor had caught up with the information and was about to do what Bulkhead had dubbed a ‘rapid-fire meltdown’, making him unable to function properly. Optimus hoped to prevent that.

“Listen, old friend. I think we ought to go over your time with the Vehicon.”

The twitch became a tremble. “What? No,” Ratchet gasped, shaking his head violently. “I—I don’t think I can.”

“We’ll start out delicately,” Optimus assured him, coaxing his rigid form over to the nearby sitting area. Once they were sitting across from each other, Optimus asked, “When you think about where you were, who you were with, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“The pain,” Ratchet said choppily, looking at anything but the Prime. “All he did was cause me pain. Cybertron below me, is it hot in here to you?”

“No,” Optimus answered gently. “Ratchet, I know other details may be hard to remember—”

“Hard to remember?!” Ratchet burst out, standing swiftly and nearly losing his balance. “More like hard to _forget_! Believe me, I try very hard to forget and that is why I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you! I’ve told you everything that I remember learning about the spy and because of that, there is absolutely no reason why I should have to focus on anything else that happened there!”

“Ratchet, listen to me,” Optimus cut in, rising to his full height as well. He had hoped it would have been unnecessary to say this. “I believe there might be a connection between Jack and Rafael’s injuries and the Decepticon informer.”

“And you think I haven’t suspected that all along?!” Ratchet demanded. “I’m smarter than you may think, Optimus. I’ve suspected it this whole time, but tell me truthfully if _you_ would want to go over every single detail of the torture someone used on you for entertainment!”

“If I believed it would save my comrades,” Optimus answered honestly.

Ratchet was seething. “Oh, so _I’m_ the only one who can save our comrades! Sure, I’ll just go write down every single thing that happened to me. Maybe reading about electrocution and overstimulation of the senses will make Jack feel better in the hospital! **::Frell::** , that’s fantastic, _molto bene_ , no pressure or anything!”

Optimus stared at him in disbelief, sputtering, “‘ _Molto bene_ ’? What language are you speaking?”

“I learned it from The Doctor!”

“But _you’re_ the doctor.”

“Yes, I am! I’m exactly that and I’m not going to change. I’m not going to be a **::freening::** warrior or a leader or somebody to saves himself or anyone else!” Ratchet returned to his previous sitting position and vented sharply, pressing a hand to his chassis.

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked, wondering if he had been too late to stop the meltdown.

“No. Actually, I think I’m drunk.” Ratchet paused for contemplation a cycle too long. “I’m surprised I didn’t notice the symptoms before: not being able to stand up straight, the heat, the swearing, going off on a tangent. And then there’s the fact that I can’t remember half of what I just said. I _knew_ that high-grade energon tasted tacky earlier...”

Recognizing he wouldn’t be able to completely trust any information Ratchet gave him, Optimus sighed and rubbed his friend’s shoulder. “Get some rest,” he suggested quietly.

Ratchet nodded half-mindedly and Optimus left him, going over to the table where he’d set Ratchet’s computer and settling in to continue the search.


	9. *Him*

_One man’s trash is another man’s treasure_. This saying applied to him all too well, he mused as he bent down and dug a nitrile-gloved hand into the overflowing waste bin. It was amazing what one could find so carelessly discarded—sometimes personal information, sometimes valuables. Both were excellent news for him; the valuables he’d found were already selling on eBay and the personal information he could simply send off to his contact and forget about.

It was an understatement to say he had been shocked to learn of the Decepticons’ existence. He’d suspected alien life before but no one had taken him seriously, not even his coworkers. Gritting his teeth, he peeled a sticky yogurt top off the back of his glove. Those fools were going to regret making fun of him.

Vehicon #115 had promised him that the warlord Megatron would eventually return and punish the pitiful people of earth. He’d been worried originally, wondering if a warlord would consider _him_ pitiful, but 115 had sworn on ‘the Chaos-Bringer’ to vouch for him and his helpfulness. Whoever the Chaos-Bringer was, he hoped they would mean something to Lord Megatron.

The one thing that he found strange about 115 was that he would disappear at random intervals without word. He wouldn’t hear from him for a few days and then he’d pop up again with a mission.

The missions were relatively easy but brought an adrenaline rush, one that he found quite satisfying no matter how many times he felt it. He wondered why those he cared for had never thanked him for the thrill when he gave it to them. Ungrateful weaklings...The only thing that kept him from cursing aloud was the remembrance that it might wake those who were sleeping in the house.

Nudging aside half an eggshell, he leaned back on his heels and studied his surroundings with a keen, intent eye. For the contents of a trash bin, it all seemed generic enough. That frustrated him; if he couldn’t find anything for his employer’s purposes, he’d lose his trust. 115 was on one of his disappearing sprees at this very moment and he wouldn’t be pleased if he returned to find him empty-handed.

There had to be something he could use, something small that would give up just a tiny piece of information about his target, something forgettable but crucial to the cause—

“Ah!” he whispered in excitement, delicately scooping up a small, cheap pair of glasses. He peered closely at the words printed on the edges of the glasses and smirked. _Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic_.

His mission was practically over now, he realized with a pang of wistfulness as he stood and went to his car. Trash-searching may have revealed things about himself and other people that he never would have suspected, but it _was_ trash-searching. The adrenaline never lasted as long as it could if 115 had let him simply confront the enemy head-on, heavily exploiting the bonds that the children and Autobots shared.

As for the Autobots, he wasn’t quite sure what the big deal was. After he settled into the seat of his car and folded the glasses into a prepared bag, he leaned over and pulled Agent Fowler’s Autobot files out of the glove compartment. Flipping them open, he scanned the Autobot biographies with minimal interest, more focused on the pictures included.

He had always imagined aliens as magnificent creatures, but these Cybertronians were amazing in ways he hadn’t really expected. The _life_ in the Autobots’ eyes made him wonder what differentiated them from the Decepticons and why they ought to be eliminated. Life was something he had worked countless days for and now he seemed to be fighting for the opposite.

115 used to flip through these folders, pointing out who each of the Bots were. The Con spoke of all of them with hate, he remembered, but he’d spoken of the medic, Ratchet, with something more, almost pleasure. He had boldly asked 115 what that was about and his employer had blinked silently for a few moments.

“‘Oh, it’s just ironic to me,’” 115 mused at last, “‘that a lapdog so beloved, so biasing, was abandoned by his master.’” The Cybertronian had laughed then, launching into some tale about the meeting of Ratchet and someone named Orion Pax.

He had tried to listen but hadn’t understood. All he ended up taking away from the conversation was that he understood what abandonment meant and he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for the red and white Bot who no doubt would end up dying in the Decepticon Age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my readers: this story is on a hiatus _TEMPORARILY _. My computer got a virus and I lost over twenty stories, including the progress I had made on this one. Once I find them, I hope to return to this! Please be patient with me T^T__


End file.
